Fermented Frills
by I.C. Weener
Summary: Charlotte should have thought twice before sprouting off on an adventure.


" _The only thing I know for certain is somehow that chip must be removed or dissolved and quickly."_

" _And if it isn't?"_

" _More tissue degeneration, massive clotting, and eventually… death."_

\- Viper

* * *

The chemistry lab of the Dark Academy was a dangerous pit of disgrace no mortal ever wanted to call home. Dozens of Apprentice Witches scurried like maggots between the ominous frothing beakers and contaminated surgical tools. A single master Witch sat on a broom hovering above her students with her hat pointed sideways and her bosom barely containing itself in her black dress. The sound of thunder rolled in the far off distance while lightning streaked through the windows. A moody rendition of the Dracula X68000 loading screen music played on a scratchy old phonograph on one of the cobweb-infested tables.

Two unlucky patients were admitted to the laboratory that day. A male and female of matching young adult age were sprawled out on leather hospital beds under the effects of a heavy sleeping spell. Holy warriors sent to destroy Dracula they had been before they were defeated and captured. Now they were a couple of lab volunteers ready to get their equipment inspected and their anatomies analyzed.

Charlotte was mostly left alone on her bed. Johnathan, with his jacket unbuttoned and round electrodes lining him all the way from his bare navel up to his pectorals, had at least six Apprentice Witches clustered around him. They were cooing as they gently touched his physique.

"Girls! I told you, no associating with the specimens!" the hovering Witch shouted from the air. Her Apprentices backed away in swift apology.

Something curious was lying beside the young man: An old whip of the Vampire Killing variety. The Witch curiously tilted her head and reached her arm out, telepathically drawing the coiled lasso off of the ground so she could study it more closely. It was only in her hand for a few seconds before it began to glow in a bright blue light. The Witch exclaimed "Eech!" as she dropped it instantly and shook her steaming hand. It had left a faint burn mark in her palm with the texture of serpent skin.

"So the legends are true," she said with slight shock. "It _does_ contain a human soul."

Then she started to grow curious again. Humanity was meant to be broken. It was meant to have its darker true nature brought to the surface. This one must have been trapped in the whip for centuries, almost as secluded and soaked in blood as Lord Dracula himself. It would only take a small sprinkle of magic to craft something useful out of it, as long as there was a suitable body to bind the whip's soul to.

The Witch glanced at Charlotte and nodded. She pointed toward the lab floor and drew her index finger into a circle. A pentagram appeared on the ground, absorbing the dust and trace droplets of decades-old dried blood from between the wooden floorboards. The spell circle festered into a Punaguchi: A base creature made entirely of decay and death. It was only the size of a melon in its sprouting form, far too small to contain a sacrificial maiden.

"Do any of you have food on you? This mold needs something to eat if it's going to grow big enough," the master Witch said.

"I have this rotting turkey leg I found in the wall the other day!" one of the Apprentices happily cheered as she waved the chunk of stucco-covered meat over her head. The black cat perched on the end of the Witch's floating broom licked his chops as lightning flashed in a window behind him.

The Apprentice dropped the turkey leg into the Punaguchi's oozing vent and quickly ran back. The creature shook violently as it grew. Fully engorged, it was four feet fall and as wide as horse cart. It belched a glowing cloud up in the air when it was done digesting.

The master Witch pointed toward Charlotte's bed. The top of the Punaguchi opened and reached out with a dense flurry of spores forming a giant arm. It hooked around the sleeping girl's waist, lifted her limply through the air, and quickly pulled her down into its rancid walls. The master Witch picked up the whip with her magic again and tossed it into the Punaguchi's vent as it was closing. The insides of the demon provided plenty of space for a single Charlotte curled in a fetal position.

The Punaguchi glowed with rotting vapors. Unexpectedly, the dark light began to flicker and gave way to a brighter light. It glowed in fiery red light. Then in glowed in icy blue light. Charlotte was trying to fight her way out with her magical defenses.

"Looks like we'll have to get old Bones on this one," the Witch muttered from her lofty spot in the air. She flattened the front of her hand and summoned a small flask into her open palm. It was painted with a white skull and filled with pitch black tar. A calling card for communicating directly with the Abyss.

The Witch threw the container to the ground. As glass shattered to pieces, its contents instantly evaporated into a black laughing mist. The vapor formed into the personification of Death himself, a floating skeleton wrapped in a long black robe that trailed all the way to the ground. He levitated over the Punaguchi and closed his funeral shroud completely around it, surrounding Charlotte in layers of insurmountable ageless decay.

The procedure only took a few seconds after that.

Death laughed in insanity as he and his massive scythe disappeared. The Punaguchi pulsed like an exhumed rotting heart before spreading open its vent and coughing another colony of vaporous spores.

The drenched tatters of Charlotte's laced skirt rose up from the demon's mouth first. She was bent over with her unflattering end facing the master Witch and her students, giving them the best biological exhibit they could possibly ask for. She gathered herself to her feet, turned around in a more humble position, and climbed down from the Punaguchi with a light hop. She was left wearing the dripping scraps of her blue sorceress dress, now stained blackish-brown from infestation and clinging like a second skin on her contours. Jonathan's whip was curled at her ankle and spiraled all the way up to her neck, entwining her features like an undead snake with his demonic charmer. Her warm pink skin had changed to warm mold flesh. A pair of round black mushroom growths were sprouting from her long damp and darkened hair above her ears.

Charlotte had been molded into quite the bacterial babe. Underneath all of the decay and noxious fungus, she was like a ghostly Scylla meant to reduce brave men into carrion with the slightest touch, or an Allura Une with better travel options.

"What's your name, darling?" the Witch spoke down as she hovered on her broom.

"Sara…" the fouled vampire hunter murmured in an ancient, hollow voice. She glanced up toward the Witch. She glanced toward the Apprentices.

"Food. I'm hungry," she whispered in exhaustion.

Her eyes gleamed toward Jonathan, still helplessly sleeping on the examination bed. The Apprentices backed away in fear.

"He's all yours," the Witch said with a grin. She watched observantly as Charlotte slowly approached Jonathan.

* * *

 _Author's note: I've wanted to do a Sara Trantoul story forever. Now I finally made it happen with a twist.  
_


End file.
